


A Convergence in Probability

by slightlyjillian



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3959188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlyjillian/pseuds/slightlyjillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode 2x03 Reapercussions-AU. Capturing the one-eyed Grounder does not go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Convergence in Probability

**Author's Note:**

> With a long hiatus until season three, I thought I'd follow a whim into a _what if_ scenario. This improbable story is what happened. Please enjoy and thanks for reading!

Finn waited, huddled in his designated position out-of-sight and in the bushes. The plan was to lure the one-eyed Grounder with Clarke's watch into a trap. Crouched behind a tree, Murphy tapped the rocks. The plan might work. Of all the crazy ideas they had hatched since landing on Earth, Finn knew they had succeeded at far less likely endeavors. 

But this one had to succeed. Everything depended on this plan working. Lives depend on this.

Clarke was missing. Clarke had been taken.

The rhythmic knocks resounded in Finn's skull. They might as well have been the seconds counting down on an antique clock. Jake Griffin's watch was a clue and a warning. Each moment in time was another piece of sand through the hour glass marking off the unknown window in which Finn could rescue his friends. In which he could rescue Clarke. 

He could still see her face across the battlefield. Was that going to be the last time he would see her?

Finn remembered the unnatural calmness in that last shared moment with Clarke. So many dead bodies. Bellamy had been struggling with the leader of the Grounders, a man of exceptional strength. They were running out of time back then too. 

He had wanted to convey to her all the love he felt for her. In the finality of that moment, he had acknowledged she had the strength to do what she had to do. Calm and certain of what had to be done, Finn had nodded. And Clarke had retreated into the drop ship. Clarke had done her part to save their people. 

The rocks knocked. _One. Two. One, Two._ An eerie calmness returned. Now it was his turn. Finn would face what he had to do.

In the same way, still and certain, Bellamy rose from the bushes, rock in hand and silently clipped the Grounder with one eye. 

That was when it went south. 

A new Grounder dropped from the trees. He drew a sword. 

Murphy immediately pitched one of his stones at the unexpected attacker, striking the Grounder in the arm. The second stone hit high in the chest.

"You should have given me a gun," Murphy urgently complained, hands open, weaponless and searching the ground for anything he could use. 

Bellamy still knelt by the one-eyed Grounder's body. He struggled to pull up his heavy bludgeoning rock. At the same time, Finn rushed forward with a lengthy branch to hold off the sword. The new Grounder had not raised any alarm. They still had the one-eyed Grounder. They could salvage this.

Finn swung the branch up, meeting the sword on its way down to Bellamy's neck. Finn's arms ached and he was pulled in close by the force. His shoulder knocked against the Grounder's shoulder as the branch and sword angled to the side. The sword pulled clear. Finn wasn't sure how to block another blow, but Bellamy had enough time to crush the new Grounder who crumpled by his compatriot. 

"You ok?" Bellamy asked. Finn nodded. They both found Murphy rushing close with a scowl.

"Dumb luck," Murphy snapped, his gangly limbs still twitching from adrenaline. Finn and Bellamy tensed wary of the other boy. Murphy was a wild card. "That was _your idea_ of a good plan…"

 _Bang._ Gunshot. Then a _rat-a-tat_ of three more. 

Monroe and Sterling were firing. Bellamy's head twisted at the sound. "What are they doing?" he grumbled, hurrying toward the noise. He ducked to hide behind each tree on the way. 

"Now can I have a gun?" snarled Murphy. "I can't help if…"

"Take mine," Finn decided, shoving the rifle into Murphy's chest. "Stay close and cover me." 

How were they going to help Bellamy and the others? Finn hesitated, glancing down at their captive. Delays and more delays. They needed to know what this man knew about Clarke and the others. 

The gunshots had to have distracted the rest of the Grounders. Did he have time to drag away their enemy for interrogation? The watch caught the sunlight and burned brightly into Finn's eyes. He knelt, pulling the strap to take it back. 

"Finn!" Murphy warned. 

Later, Finn would be thankful that he had given Murphy the gun.

.:.

Finn's awareness extended from the dull throbbing in his temples to the press of damp, moist earth against his cheek. He fluttered his eyes open into darkness, a black with enough shape to reassure himself that his sight was not lost. 

Finn meant to stay still. But the warmth against his back was another body, one that stirred and flexed. He flipped up, quick, and through some fortuitous happenstance threw out his arm in time to feel the low ceiling of a cave. He couldn't sit up completely, but the body next to him breathed and revealed itself to calm the racing of Finn's heart.

"Murphy?" whispered Finn.

"Yeah," Murphy drawled. He sounded exhausted, as one who had long passed the ability to rest. "I got you out of there. I don't know where the others are. And, no, I haven't gone back to get your Grounder. But I made sure to grab the watch. Here you go."

Finn automatically expressed, "Thanks." The watch he bent around his wrist, managing the buckle to fasten it in the dark.

"You're welcome," Murphy sat up, sounding somewhat amused. "You know this is the _third_ nice thing you've done for me in just one day? I guess I don't regret saving you."

"What happened after I blacked out?"

Murphy protested, "We were outnumbered. I didn't want to die, but I did drag your sorry ass…"

"Not what I meant," Finn sighed. Irritation oozed off Murphy like one of his multiple other injuries. Granted, Murphy was difficult most of the time, but Finn understood the other boy's defensiveness wasn't completely unwarranted. 

Finn identified their location as a side pocket of one of the Reaper tunnels. He could feel from the drafts which direction was the mouth. He could hear the the gentle _pitter-patter_ of rain. The tunnel continued on past their resting spot. Murphy had tucked Finn in first and then had laid down to keep guard. Murphy's posture was also bent due to the low ceiling of their resting spot. But Finn could just make out the shape of Murphy cradling his arm and the ginger cautiousness of the other boy controlling his breath.

Finn asked instead, "What happened to you?"

"I got cut up," Murphy said, brief and blunt. He twisted to sit with crossed legs. His arms resettled into a stiff, careful embrace. 

"Murphy," Finn whispered. "The Grounder blades are poisoned."

"Thanks for the concern," Murphy said with a rasped laugh. "They didn't cut me."

"Ok," Finn prompted when Murphy drifted into silence. 

"Does it matter?" Murphy grumbled. "I dropped your heavy ass, ok? You're fine, obviously. Thick skull by the power of your bullheadedness or something. But if I didn't grab that damn thorny brush to break the fall we both might have broken our necks… it doesn't matter. I wrapped it up and I'm not even bleeding anymore so…"

Finn felt so much. Gratitude, mostly. But the calmness of the anger he had felt before now was collapsing into rage and panic. "Thank you. I'm sorry you got hurt. I'm glad you're ok," he whispered, forcing the sounds through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers danced over Jake Griffin's watch before curling tight. The jagged edges of his torn nails cut into his skin. Focusing on the alarm of brief pain, Finn continued, "I _can't_. I can't _stop_."

"Hey, hey," Murphy's voice sounded odd. Was he trying to comfort Finn? 

"When you were gone," Finn snapped. The picture arrived, unwelcome, into his mind. He could see Murphy captured by the Grounders. Murphy's wounds were those of fists, knives, and wires. How had those appeared? Was he tied down. Strung up? Now the Grounders soften his body with punches and kicks before meeting it with the sharp edges of knives. Or did they stand at a distance using the blades of a spear? The image no longer was Murphy tied to a tree. The figure was that of _Clarke_. Her blonde hair loose around her pressed lips and determined eyes. Finn shoved his hands over his face. 

"When you were gone," Finn continued, "We didn't even _think_. We didn't even think about what might happen to you if you were captured by the Grounders. Hell, I think most of the camp went to sleep imaging we'd let them kill you."

"That isn't your…"

"Now I can't look at you without thinking about what is happening to _her_!" Finn exclaimed. "All I can think is how many days did they torture you? How long have they had her?"

"Finn."

" _What_?" His voice sobbed, but for all the pain and the rage his eyes burned dry.

"Get a grip." Murphy waited, then said, "We need to rest. No one's going anywhere in the dark. Or in the rain. And even the Grounders sleep." After another moment of silence, he continued, "At least she isn't alone."

.:.

At first light, Finn stood at the opening of the tunnel sharing his attention between Murphy fussing at the laces of his boots and the unfamiliar terrain. 

"I don't suppose we can find something to eat first," Murphy asked, standing. His sassy posture buzzed like a too tightly coiled spring. He could bolt either direction depending on Finn's answer.

Finn knew he'd earned some measure of respect from Murphy that the other boy would defer to Finn's directions. But Murphy wasn't one to follow blindly. Just the day before Finn had said he could handle Murphy. Today he owed the guy a life debt. Finn chuckled, earning Murphy's default expression of incredulous disbelief.

"No good to anyone if we're hungry," Finn agreed. 

"Are we going to try to regroup with Bellamy?" Murphy probed.

Finn nodded, finding some comfort in the more amiable atmosphere growing between the two of them. Murphy wasn't the least selfish person on Earth, but he was useful. 

"Too bad Wells isn't here to shoot us another big cat," Murphy joked. He cut his eyes to Finn watching for a reaction. Finn definitely wasn't the only one still sizing up their partnership.

"Whatever the hell we want," Finn provided what he suspected was the punch line to Murphy's unique humor. He remembered that night as the moment Murphy had been forced to consider Finn as more than just a reckless flirt. But the thought of Wells cooled Finn's desperation with a long sadness. 

"Yeah, that." Murphy shrugged with a new energy in his eyes. They still stood side by side with absolutely no idea where to go next. But Finn hoped this new partnership had one thing, a fragile alliance they could trust.

.:.

Finn tracked Murphy's trail back to the overgrown amusement park. On the way they debated if the Grounders had captured Bellamy, Monroe and Sterling. If so, Murphy wanted to go back to the Ark. Or, Finn decided to himself, he would send Murphy alone. 

He felt beholden to Murphy's safety. 

Finn's personal urge, the undercurrent of everything, was simply this: Finn needed to keep moving forward. He had to move onward to wherever Clarke was at. Abby had bought them an escape at great cost. Raven had bequeathed him with a specific task. Find Clarke. Bring them back.

And next to that promise was a new life debt, an obligation that for Finn should have equal if not more weight. 

Finn watched as Murphy jogged off the path to explore another possible nut-producing tree. Murphy glanced back with a triumphant grin, then pulled himself up to sit on the lowest branch. He tossed a nut into his mouth, cracking the shell with his teeth before spitting out the pieces. He munched declaring, "Jackpot."

"Enough for two?" Finn asked. The delay ached, but his stomach had been protesting for the past few miles. Food was necessary.

"Sure, take my seat here," Murphy offered, hauling himself up to the next branch with ease. He harvested another handful of nuts. "These are still fresh."

Finn gnawed at some stubborn shells making the process of filling his stomach slow and cumbersome. Murphy passed the time humming some tune and appearing, if Finn wasn't mistaken, happy. 

Finn shook his head. If a few nuts were enough to make Murphy smile then it didn't take much. On the other hand, Finn couldn't deny Murphy was the sort to frequently invite misfortune. And the sort who could appreciate the brief immediate moments of happiness in a vast landscape of disaster.

"What's your secret?" Finn asked. "How is it that you…" 

Finn hesitated. He didn't want to insult Murphy, but the question he wanted to ask was always: _How do you live with yourself? Why do you keep trying with people who hate you? Why do you think you deserve a second chance? A third chance?_

Murphy, cheeks stuffed full and sloppily chewing, widened his eyes with a raised brow. "What?" he engaged.

"Why are you helping me?" Finn tried again.

Murphy swallowed, "Well, if you recall, I didn't have much choice." He paused, then grinned. "And, dear Finny, I _hate_ the Grounders. You, I hate less. Well," he considered. "You and Raven are probably the only people I don't actively hate."

"Keeping score," surmised Finn, only just dampening the disdain leaking into his tone. Murphy's worldview was a mess.

Murphy's gaze sharpened, focusing at some distant image Finn would not see. 

"Of course," Murphy eventually admitted. "I can't erase what happened to me. I can't erase what I did. And no one was going to look out for me except. Except." He deflated. "I had my _reasons_. And nobody asks me about those reasons. Except," Murphy repeated, "When I think back I can't help wondering if things...” 

Murphy stopped moving. He stilled his chewing and the twitching of his legs. More cheerfully, he added, “Do you know what I remember when I was choking on that rope? It was the only clear image in a blur of terror. You know who it was? I saw you. The only person who gave a fraction of a damn what happened to me."

Finn listened, growing a little distraught. He knew what Murphy was getting at, and at the same time Finn knew that his own intentions had never been as noble as Murphy chose to represent them.

Finn was lost in that thought when he heard the rustling of leaves, but not those gently tossed by the wind. Something was moving through the blankets of dry leaves on the forest floor. 

"Finn, I think…"

" _Shh_ ," Finn held up his hand to quiet his companion. He grasped the tree trunk and leaned around to look for the source of the disturbance. Murphy tapped Finn's head and motioned for Finn to join him on the higher branch. The tree bent under their weight, but supported them without issue as Murphy shifted to a branch on the other side. They were probably high enough to go unnoticed. Perhaps.

Finn sucked in air and heard Murphy slap his hand over his mouth as they both noticed their unwelcome guest. Another large cat. Their jest from the morning had returned to haunt them. Finn cringed. The first one had been ferocious and fast. A hunter. He doubted that a tree would deter the creature if it wanted to find them. 

But it had come from the opposite direction. He had to trust the creature was up to other business. He didn't want to stop monitoring the large cat but he glanced at Murphy long enough to check his ally was seeing what he saw. He tried to shoot Murphy a reassuring grin and a thumbs up signal. They were going to be fine.

Murphy scowled.

.:.

Hours later, they found the Grounder camp abandoned. The evidence remaining did not indicate anything of Bellamy, Monroe or Sterling's survival. Moreso, the weight of the watch on his wrist dragged down Finn's spirits. He pressed his lips together. 

"Nothing," Murphy reported back, lifting and dropping his hands. Defeated. 

"Alright," Finn said, emotionless. He found it difficult to put any thought into what to do next. The plan to return to the Ark was loathsome. 

"Oh look." Murphy waved his hand toward an open cart staged in a circle with several others. They resembled giant teacups. "That's the place where they dumped me when I would lose my voice from screaming," Murphy quipped, pointing with his gun. He lifted it, pretending to shoot and spoke, "Bang." He grinned bitterly. "What I would have done to have had someone put me out of my misery. But no. Had to keep the human pin cushion alive."

Finn winced.

"Yeah," Murphy agreed. "I don't like thinking about it either."

They stood, motionless. The wind moved ashes from the long dead fire pit along the ground like a mist. 

"Which is why we can't go back to the Ark," Murphy reasoned. "They don't _want to think_ about what's happening to our friends."

Finn tilted his head at the word. "Friends," he repeated.

"The Council wants to try _diplomacy_ or to politic their way into a blissfully ignorant sleep, fine," Murphy spat. "Because you and I both know that none of them are going to listen to us. I've been thinking about it. Taking a hostage wasn't a bad idea. Someone's got to know where they are. They can't just hide a hundred kids," Murphy paused. "Or fifty kids or however many they got. So do your tracking thing. Where did those fuckers go from here?"

"Alright," Finn nodded. He had been lacking direction. How was it that _Murphy_ was the one encouraging him?

"I just want your word that if we do this," Murphy grabbed Finn's arm. His expression earnest, Murphy continued, "I want you to make sure that Clarke knows. That Clarke hears that I…"

"Murphy," Finn interjected, "As far as I'm concerned, we're good. And Clarke will be able to see that for herself. But I'll tell her. Yeah."

.:.

They lost another day following the trail of the Grounders who had traveled in mass to a clearing and then split ways along two well worn paths in the forest. 

As they followed the trail, Finn had encouraged Murphy to keep the gun. For one, Murphy hadn't offered it back. And also, Murphy had the surer reflexes as he'd already demonstrated in reacting to their failed initial plan.

But more importantly, Finn had to admit that he was slowly going insane. 

He wanted to blame it on a batch of bad nuts. But Murphy was clearly unaffected. Almost continuously, he heard screams in the distance, which Murphy could not validate. When Finn had seen a Grounder in the shadows of the trees, Finn had tripped in his haste to rush forward. To attack. There had been no Grounder.

Soon after that, Finn had also been certain that the Grounders had started to throw spears from above and he'd ducked for cover. After that event, Murphy had said quietly, "Finn, I think you may have hurt yourself when I dropped you."

Finn had nodded, "But we _can't stop_. Keep walking. Just help me know what's real… I'm counting on you."

"Well, when you put it that way," Murphy had said with a teasing lilt. Although he had stayed in step with Finn after that moment, giving periodic reports. " _All quiet_ ," and " _You're right. I see the trail going that direction as well_."

Now the trail split.

"It's getting dark," Murphy declared, staring down one path then studying the other. "And we've got a decision ahead of us that might be better made after a little sleep. A chance to clear our heads."

"Thanks for keeping the suggestions subtle," Finn snapped, finding himself awash with frustration. 

"Relax," Murphy grumbled. "I _get it_ , okay. Maybe you've got something like shell-shock. Just remember we're on the same side here. We're no good to anyone if we get ourselves killed."

"I would gladly die for any of them," protested Finn. He felt his face turn into flames as he directed his ire toward his companion. Murphy was one of his people. Yes. But not as important. He wasn't Clarke. Finn scowled. 

Murphy laughed. "Oh Finn. You are unhinged, pal. You're lucky that I've got you figured out. Now stop. Drop here. And close your eyes. I swear you'll be dead asleep in five minutes." He held up a finger to halt Finn's retort. "Regardless of what you think, you are exhausted. Don't be stupid."

"Everything you're saying is making me angry," Finn grumbled. He knew that he should listen to Murphy. That he could trust Murphy. " _Nothing_ is more important than finding them."

"If you could really hear yourself you would be horrified," Murphy coaxed. 

Finn allowed himself to be lead to a small thicket for cover. His knees submitted when Murphy pushed down on his shoulders. A burden seemed to rest across his chest and Finn flopped backward to set his head on something. _Ah_ , it was Murphy's jacket, as he was no longer wearing it. The weight of the burden turned out to be Murphy.

"I swear if you mention this I will kill you," Murphy whispered into Finn's ear. "But I can't have you running off without me noticing and I've got to sleep too."

Finn entered a dream. In it he was back at the Grounder camp where Murphy had been tortured. He stood next to the ring of oversize teacups and watched as Grounders walked past him. But no one saw him. No one drew their weapons or threatened him. Finn was safe.

He knew it was because of the weight. The weight meant Finn was protected. 

.:.

"Hey, wake up, Finn." Murphy's scarred face grinned as Finn opened his eyes. 

He grabbed for the jacket returning it. "Thanks," Finn said, his mouth thick with foul taste. He eagerly accepted the flask of water Murphy had been hording. Finn grimaced at the temperature. The days were not warm as much as they were simply warmer than the cold that had rolled over Earth the past few weeks. At the same time, the direct sunlight had heated the flask and its contents.

Murphy took a sip himself before recapping their water supply. Finn understood why they'd accomplished so much during their first weeks on Earth. Murphy might have been an asshole, but he was a diligent, responsible worker. Murphy knew how to accomplish tasks. And he'd been pulling most of the weight on this journey as well.

"Hey, Murphy," Finn stood. He itched to move forward, but something responsible still lived under the cracks of his panic and the ghosts in his head. "I've needed you to carry more than your share. I need you to keep doing that, ok?"

"Whatever," Murphy shrugged. 

"No, I meant to say I _appreciate_ it," Finn tried again. "Please stick with me on this."

"We're going to get our friends back," Murphy agreed. Finn peered at the other boy and saw something there, some awareness that Finn lacked, but Finn's instinct was that this Murphy was the trustworthy one. The one who had been loyal to Bellamy and who had saved Raven.

"Friends?" Finn latched onto that word. "You've said that more than once. Not that I'm complaining, but you must have an interesting qualification for friends."

"Yeah, must have. I mean, look at the current company I keep," Murphy said, stepping to the side of both the question and the trail. "We still have to decide which road to take. Talk it out, Earth Skills."

Finn brought himself over to reexamine the situation. He said, "I didn't get a count of the number of feet, but we should follow whichever direction is more traveled. They may have split up the prisoners. We do know that many of our people survived the attack. The larger number has got to be an indication that they were taken that way."

"Works for me," Murphy nodded. "So I'm assuming that way?" He pointed to the direction they understood to be north. 

Finn nodded. He watched the other beaten path as they followed the choice he had made. "Here's hoping that I'm not wrong."

"It's not like we've got anything better to go on," Murphy consoled. 

.:.

"There's got to still be somebody alive," Finn muttered. He'd found himself having trouble with the silence. The conversations contained inside his head filled every corner. Arguments with an imaginary Bellamy about how they needed to keep pushing forward. Arguments about how far he was willing to go. The scenarios became more and more desperate. The justification thinned. The hope dimming.

"You do realize you said that last part out loud?" Murphy said, stepping closer to Finn. 

Murphy didn't push. Finn appreciated that about Murphy. What he hadn't expected was for Murphy to bend.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask. Did Raven tell you?" Murphy inquired, his voice new and unpredictable bore into Finn's circular arguments.

"Did she tell me what?" Finn tried to recall the conversations he had with Raven before they had started this journey. He bit back the memory of her pain. Sitting with her as she screamed. He loved her and endured every consequence of that bullet Murphy had thoughtlessly put into her. 

Finn filtered through the remnants of those memories. He concluded, "No, she didn't have much to say just… _don't shoot any more of us_. I think that was the take away."

Murphy chuckled. "Man, you are a piece of work. This quest for revenge, I get that. But you're still a peacekeeper in there somewhere. I hear you forgive Grounders that stab you. You forgive me for shooting your girl," He paused on that. "I _am_ sorry, by the way. I told her I was sorry."

"It's not revenge. This is different. This is war…" Finn shook his head. Murphy didn't get it.

"That was war too, Finn," Murphy corrected. "Everything since we got here has been hostile. What's different this time is…"

 _Clarke_ , Finn heard. He knew it was different because it was Clarke. Clarke had done so much for all of them. For him. For Finn, she had _tortured_. For Finn, she had _killed_. He hadn't liked it. But he understood it now. The understanding stretched up his back and wrapped fingers around his neck and choked and choked and… Finn gasped. 

Murphy was still speaking, "I told Raven that I didn't want to die alone."

Murphy had brought Finn back into the present, but he had missed the context. He tried to read the intent on Murphy's open expression. Murphy waited for a response. Murphy had pinned some sort of expectation on what Finn said next. 

"This isn't like last time," Finn promised. "We're in this together. Hell, we practically made you who you are. So you're one of us whether we admit it or not. I can say it. I mean it. Please stick with me. Help me see this through."

"Isn't that _sweet_ ," Murphy muttered, clearly pleased. But Finn didn't push that button a second time. The other kid was weird, but Murphy was all the backup that Finn had left. Finn meant it.

And Finn realized what Murphy said was the truth. Murphy could be that simple. He meant it when he said he was on this quest with Finn to rescue his friends. Friends were what Murphy had wanted. 

In the moment of levity, Finn joked, "You're still the relentless guy who peed on someone once."

"Connor was a dick."

"Right. My fault for bringing that up," sighed Finn. 

"At least I wasn't trying to flirt with all of the pretty girls while I still had a girlfriend," Murphy retorted.

Finn considered, "We both have room for improvement." 

It was a few minutes later when Finn realized things had improved. The urgency hadn't left, but some of the demons knocking around in his head had retreated for the present. He gave Murphy a sideways smile. Murphy simply shook his head.

.:.

"Something happened here," Finn said, pointing at the way the tracks moved around in circles, back and forth. 

"They stopped marching for a while?" Murphy guessed, nodding when he saw Finn agreed.

"This means that we might be able to catch up," Finn declared, overcome with hope. He had suggested jogging several times. Murphy had acquiesced before admitting his bad leg still bothered him. 

"If you want to be able to punch it and fight, I can't burn out my leg," Murphy repeated. His eyes drug along the ground. "But now might be the time. So how do we know which way they went next?"

Finn grimaced. He was scared of that question because once again they had reached a crossroads. The sun was setting and he had to admit he was also emotionally worn out and physically tired from the long hunt. 

"I'd say we should flip a coin," Murphy drawled, "Except I'm a little short on game pieces these days."

"Yeah, back in the day we could stop at the Exchange and trying to haggle with Nygel for a missing pieces,” Finn recalled. “We never sent Raven though. That woman did not like Raven for all that she pretended she did."

"What's not to like about Raven?" Murphy's light-hearted comment seemed a little too glib. His cheeks tinted red.

"No," Finn punctuated. Murphy raised his hands in surrender.

"So which way do we go?" Murphy pondered, pragmatically.

Finn closed his eyes. Could he sense Clarke's presence? If he stretched out all of his love for her and wished hard enough? Would she appear?

"North," he said, with what he hoped was confidence. "North has done alright so far."

.:.

Murphy hovered over Finn, watching for trouble. He asked, "Finn are those marks…?"

"Wheels," Finn answered, emotionless. He had noticed the double grooves of wagon wheels belatedly making the connection as they went through a muddy patch that had flooded with recent, regular rains. The grooves had become more and more pronounced. Since the ford the cart appeared to have given them some trouble. The travelers were slowing down. 

But even with the possibility of passengers riding in the cart, the number of foot prints was diminishing. 

"Down to about five sets of footprints?" Murphy added, with some apprehension. 

"I know," acknowledged Finn. He slapped his forehead, trying to focus. He'd been feeling better after the earlier conversation with Murphy, but a darkness had crept into the corners of his vision. And a strobing light was making it hard to think clearly. He'd been trusting his choice. But now? Now he doubted _everything_.

A short time later, the footprints disappeared.

"This is all your fault," Finn turned toward Murphy. He stomped closer and pointed an accusing finger over Murphy's shoulder.

" _My fault_?" Murphy parroted, somewhat shocked.

"Yes." Finn scrambled for what he wanted to say. What he needed to say. "I never should have listened to you. You and that bottomless stomach of yours. We've been following boot prints this whole time. Do boar prints look like that?"

"Right, I get what you're saying," Murphy stalled, shifting the gun in his arms. He cradled it loose and ready. "This is clearly, completely my fault. I'll do something about it."

" _Behind you_ ," Finn muttered, urgent and incapable of any more subterfuge.

Murphy spun, taking aim. Something inside Murphy was a perfect soldier. He checked the rifle and tipped his head while taking aim. Murphy raised his voice and said, "It would feel wrong leaving without something. Especially after we traveled so far. Come on out."

A slight figure wrapped in pale tan garb broke through the thick of the trees. She was a tiny thing and very female. When she unwrapped her face to give them an undisguised and unconcerned assessment with her honey brown eyes, Finn noticed Murphy's shoulders shift. 

_Oh good grief_ , Finn thought. For all his insults about how Finn acted toward pretty girls, Murphy was clearly inexperienced and vulnerable to pretty girls.

"Who are you?" Finn asked, weary and concerned. She didn't look like one of the Grounders they had originally been chasing.

She remained quiet. 

"Fine," Finn let his simmering fury boil. "Fine, _don't_ talk. We'll just walk over your dead body then. Murphy, shoot her."

"What?" Murphy said, shaking his head as if just coming to. Murphy shifted his gaze to check if he'd heard Finn correctly. “Finn, I don't...”

Ready for a fight, Finn steeled his decision. “I said _shoot!_ ”

Instead of more complaints, Murphy shouted, "Look out!"

While concentrating on his orders to fire, Finn had missed the signs of the girl's companion sneaking up from the side. He did not miss the hand that twisted his arm back or the knife that pressed into his throat. Finn lifted his chin, trying to move away from the cut of the blade.

Just as fast, Murphy grabbed the girl and twisted her around. Rifle to her head, Murphy's grin turned menacing. He spoke, "I guess we're at an impasse."

 _Stupid, stupid idiot,_ Finn thought at Murphy. At himself. 

"I thought we might be able to talk this out," Murphy continued. "Like I could be a normal person or something. But that guy over there? He's probably the closest thing I have to a friend down here and if you hurt _him_ ," Murphy paused, apparently considering the consequences. He added, with a certain charm filling his tone, "Well, that will end badly for everyone."

"Down here?" the girl said, slowly. "You are Sky People?"

"Yeah," Murphy agreed, watching Finn. He seemed to be taking some cues from whatever he saw. "That sounds like us."

"I told you that it wasn't worth trying for the reward." The girl quarreled with the person whose breathing Finn could feel through his back they were pressed so close together. 

"Yeah, we're tough sons of bitches," Murphy chuckled. "Sky People. You don't want to mess with us."

"Who…" Finn started to ask, before remembering the drifting blade. It nicked him, but Finn couldn't tell how badly. It didn't seem much. 

"Who has a bounty on us?" Murphy asked, somehow reading Finn's mind. Finn swelled with appreciation. Now if they could only find a way to work together and end this standoff.

"Tree People. Others. We were going to the City of Lights," she said as if that clarified anything. "That isn't a bounty choice but a favor."

"The City of Lights?" Murphy seemed distracted and Finn willed him to concentrate. Negotiate.

"Yeah, you should visit sometime," the girl said, dryly but somewhat bemused. To Finn it seemed as if she had the make of them and had decided Finn and Murphy were harmless. Finn almost wished they had shot her, except… he swallowed. Something did not feel right.

The girl's face began to spin as Finn watched. Her voice floated, "Ah, too bad. It looks like your friend is extremely vulnerable to the poison. Has he been weakened by it before?"

"Finn? Finn!" shouted Murphy. "Okay, I will seriously shoot her if you don't…"

Finn dropped into another dream.

He was in a boat on the ocean. He had oars in hand, but Finn's boat seemed to glide forward without any effort. Murphy sat in the bow, facing backward and reading a book of Shakespeare.

"He's not going to thank you for this," Murphy said, flipping a page of the book.

Murphy continued, "I _know_ going back to the Ark is the smart move. I know that he could _die_. I don't want him to die." Another page turned.

Finn looked beyond Murphy and saw the strobing light. It grew closer and taller and brighter as the boat continued forward. Finn couldn't grip the oars any longer. They dropped into the water and floated away.

He sank backward. The sky was so very big when you had to look up at it.

Finn heard Murphy snapped the book shut. 

Murphy said, "I also need you to know that Finn isn't going to thank you. He _isn't going to stop_. He's going to fight for _her_ on his own if you don't…"

.:.

"No, no." Finn jerked. "No!" He was awake. He was in the makeshift infirmary of the camp. In the same exact room where Raven had her surgery. _Wrong. Wrong, wrong._ Finn screamed into his hands. 

"Hey, Finn. You're okay." 

Hands were on his shoulders and then one ran through his hair. Sweat trickled down his temples and Finn found he was having trouble breathing. Was this Raven? He choked.

"He needs to calm down." Finn's mind supplied the speaker: Clarke's mom. Clarke. _Clarke._

"Finn, you're back. You're _home_.” Raven.

"Why don't you tell him something he actually cares about." That was Murphy. Something inside Finn broke on the inhale. Air. Listen. Listen. Finn hoped. He knew Murphy understood.

"Finn, Clarke's safe."

.:.

"I'm telling you, he's different…"

Both Murphy and Finn looked up as the door opened, clearly hearing Bellamy's warning from outside the room that had been designated for Finn's recovery. Finn shifted to sit up in his bed. Murphy kept reading his book from the room's only chair.

Murphy didn't have an official place to crash at Camp Jaha, and when Finn found out that Raven was spending extraordinary amounts of time with a certain engineer, it made more sense to share the room with someone who needed it. And sharing the space allowed for certain luxuries. Murphy was quite fond of the chair and had a stack of salvaged books next to it.

Clarke let the door close behind her and her eyes flickered up toward Finn and then to somewhere on the ceiling.

"Well, it took you long enough to come a callin', _Princess_ ," Murphy said, with somewhat of an edge.

Finn glared at his friend, but what Murphy had accomplished was worth the effort. Clarke relaxed.

"I'm sorry," she started. "I've been busy. As you've probably heard, our people are being held at Mount Weather and we've been working on an alliance with the Grounders to get them back."

Finn didn't know where to begin with how wrong all that sounded. Murphy might have, but he laughed instead. 

"But enough about that," Clarke wisely redirected her conversation. "How are _you_? I heard all about it. You managed to rescue Bellamy and the others, Monroe and Sterling. They were pretty shook up, but if you hadn't followed after them…"

"You were in _Mount Weather_ ," Finn reminded. He couldn't shake the failure of it. She'd never been with the Grounders. Not at all. 

"Yes," Clarke confirmed. "And with the help of the Grounders, we're going to get everyone back."

Murphy lowered his book. Clarke glanced at him as if still surprised he was there. Finn was more surprised that he didn't want Murphy to leave.

"What are you thinking, Finn?" Murphy asked. He waited as if sincerely interested, as if Finn's decision could tip the scales on something _more_. Finn doubted his word would have any sway with Clarke. 

Finn huffed, then inhaled to clear his mind. He said, "I don't think an alliance with the Grounders is a good idea."

Clarke raised a brow, clearly shocked. "But I thought you would be…"

"Yeah, well things change," Finn muttered, indulging in a childish tone. He loved her. He truly did. And seeing her seemed to bring something back to his soul. But the return was different than what he had expected. He sighed, "No that's not it."

"What is it?" she prompted.

"I don't think I'm… well," Finn confessed. "Sometimes what I think. Or the way I see things. It's not right."

Murphy leaned forward, fingers intertwined and nodding as if he'd only just been waiting to agree. Finn rolled his eyes at that. Now they could fight over who was the crazier one. 

"Ok," Clarke nodded. "Ok."

Finn knew she was going to leave. And what scared him was that he needed to let her do it. He had to let her go.

"Well, if there's anything I can do," she hastily added with absolute earnestness, "please ask."

 _Choices_ , Finn thought. One person goes right. Another person goes left. He didn't look at Murphy but he could draw the most peculiar strength from the few days they had spent together.

Finn brightened, "Actually, Clarke, there is one thing. A small thing."

.:.

"It is kind of small, isn't it?" Murphy pondered, holding up the coin and looking at it in the sunlight. 

"I'll have you know that it's authentic," Finn defended. "Apparently there's actual money just laying around if you know where to look."

"What were you thinking when you made this? It's not very useful, right? I can't exactly flip it while I'm wearing it like a necklace," Murphy continued with his critique as he tried on his gift from Finn. Murphy wouldn't say thank you, but Finn took the appreciative insults in stride.

They were sitting at one of the tables outside of the make-do cafeteria. More and more Grounders were joining the ranks of the Sky People in Camp Jaha. Whenever Finn became uncomfortable, Murphy followed him outside.

"Have you made up your mind yet?" Murphy asked. They tried not to frown at another party of unescorted Grounders walked past. 

"And get in the way of the truce Clarke has started?" Finn muttered. 

"Clearly they can manage this rescue without us." Murphy tracked more armed warriors with his chin. "Oh look, I'm pretty sure that's the charming woman who attacked Octavia. Marvelous."

"I wanted this cease-fire," Finn rationalized. "I _know_ I did. I started this. But what I feel happening here is something different. And I can't tell if it's true worry or if it's the sickness…" Finn let the thought drift away. The answer wasn't his to discover. This alliance was Clarke's.

"So the strangest thing happened during my shift at janitorial duty the other day," Murphy introduced, with a strange wistfulness. "A _choice_ , Finn."

"I don't understand," Finn said.

"Remember when the girl talked about the City of Lights?" Murphy reminded. His fingers casually touched the coin at his throat. "Well, Jaha's heard about it too. And if we want to join him, he's taking a group to go look for it."

Finn chuckled, " _You_ want to go."

"Yeah," Murphy said very slowly. "But not without you." Finn found the answer very easy. But before he could speak, Murphy added, "Should we flip on it? I'll have to find some way to manage a coin toss with the extra dangling parts you had to add…"

"No, not this time," Finn held out his hand. He smiled, "I know what you would say. You've been saying it a lot lately. Like when Jackson had you doing all the laundry for medical… or when Raven ruthlessly needed you to help with Wick's project while they flirted the whole time…"

"And what's that exactly?" Murphy challenged.

“We're going,” Finn decided. “We just have nothing better to do."


End file.
